Gorgeous Misery (Creeping Beautiful) - Page 34

I nod. And smile. “I did.”

“Good.” And now his good mood is back. “We’re not gonna talk about work, Wendy. Not until after New Year’s.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“But on January second, you will still be here, and we will talk about things. Promise me.”

“Nick—”

“No. Promise me. I’m serious. This is what I want for Christmas. Your promise that this year, you will not run.”

“I mean… New Year’s is a whole week away,” I say. His smile grows. “How can I possibly put up with you for a whole week without wanting to slap you and walk out?”

He stares intently into my eyes. “You can do it, Wen. I have total faith in you.”

Then he kisses me.

It’s that same hello kiss we’ve been doing since I turned eighteen.

I have dreamed about this kiss over the years. I have yearned for it during some very dark nights. I have even tried to describe it with words in a letter once. And I never could find the right ones, so I gave up and did something else instead. I folded up the paper empty of words, and then I wrote on the front, ‘Kisses with Nick,’ and put it in my pocket. I have been carrying it around since birthday #18. And every so often a word will come to me, one worthy of how kisses with Nick make me feel, and I write it down.

That letter is in my pocket right now. The paper is worn and smooth and lots of the words are smudged because I wrote most of it in pencil.

Nick breaks the kiss and I take a moment to catch my breath. We look at each other. And I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m thinking, This is my guy. He’s my one.

And even though I know, if I told him that, he would tell me the same thing back, I would never believe him.

I’m not his girl.

I’m just his stand-in.

I’m just his replacement for Lauren and Sasha, and maybe even Lauren’s mother, who died long before I was lying awake at night thinking about Nick Tate. But she had to have meant something to him. He got her pregnant. And as far as I know, he’s never let that happen again. There have been so many other girls before me. He is almost fourteen years older than me and I feel like he lived several lives apart from me before we settled in to what we have and who we are to each other.

These other girls, I can’t compete with them. And in my small world, my life has only ever had two men in it. Just Chek and Nick.

And now he’s the only one left.

So it’s just him.

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

I let out a long sigh, then ease myself away from Nick and walk over to the kitchen, which is a mess of dishes and saucepans waiting to be washed in the sink. “Were you cooking?”

“Yes. I told you I baked cookies. But don’t change the subject. What were you just thinking about?”

I turn to face him again, then lean against the butcher-block counter and fold my arms across my chest. “I was thinking that…” I consider lying.

“Don’t lie,” he cautions me.

Which makes me smile. “OK. Then… I will start with a question.”

“I’m ready. Let’s hear it.”

“What do you do when we’re not together?”

“What do I do? Like… work shit?”

“All of it. I want to know all of it.”

“Ya know”—he pauses to grin at me—“you could always tag along one day. You could like… not walk out on me in a fit of hate and rage and instead get in my truck and see for yourself what I do all day.”

“I could maybe do that. But I’m not asking what you will be doing, I’m asking what you have been doing.”

“Wendy—”

“No. Let’s hear it. Did you get any more?”

“Any more what?”

“You know what. And they’re not a what. They are a who.”

“So you’re starting the fight early this time? Is that what you’re doing? So you can what? Walk out before we even eat dinner?”

That is what I’m doing. And I don’t even want to do this. I don’t want to start a fight with him. I don’t want to walk out. I want to stay with him forever. I want to marry this man. And I’m not the kind of girl who dreams about weddings, or anything stupid like that, but Nick is all I have left. And I’m so afraid of losing him, I want to kick him away before he figures out that I’m not worth saving.

I am exactly like those girls he kills.

I am an incurable disease.

He walks up to me, places both his hands on my cheeks just like he did a few minutes ago, and stares down into my evil blue eyes. “Everything you were just thinking, I want you to say it out loud.”

Tags: J.A. Huss Thriller
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